OK, this post is all Lizzie's fault. She started in with the whole ass-crack thing, and that got me thinking (it takes so little to do that). But that's what blog friends are for.
So I'm in Louisville for the day before flying out tonite to Jackson, MS for the week. (I'm not sure if I've ever even set foot in Mississippi before. So those impressions are to come.) But over the last four years in Louisville, the group of us at the crash pad have made pretty much a daily pilgrimage to a Qdoba Mexican restaurant a couple blocks from here. This is for a couple reasons: one, they have a really good menu of pretty healthy food for the couple of health nuts among us (No, not me! God! Nobody every accused me of being obsessed with any silly ideas of culinary quality beyond the sacrosanctity of Peanut M&Ms); and two, this place seems to be a required stop-over for every attractive woman under 30 in the city of Louisville.
Guys will be guys. Even happily married guys.
But the ass crack thing. Lunch time at Qdoba involves sharing the airspace with, among other noteworthy creatures, a gaggle of girls from the nearby Assumption High School. School girls in uniforms. I mean, come on. There's a whole frickin' porn industry arising from this fantastic image! Just like in the videos, they all wear their little plaid mini skirts and white button-down collared shirts, or some, "Assumption" athletic wear. (Always knowing just the right thing to say, one of my roomies unfailingly taunts another roomie, one with a teenaged daughter, that "Assumption" means "Assume she's takin' it up the tailpipe!" His mind leaps, like any good father's, to the worst possible scenario.)
Yeah, it's crass, but here's the deal: these girls come in for lunch looking for all the world like Victoria's Secret runway models. And it's a studied thing. Yeah, I know I'm a lecherous 43-year-old, but I swear to God this is not all just me! I can appreciate the wonders of youth with the best of them, but this is something else. The collared shirts are removed to reveal a way too-tight t-shirt with a push-up bra, or the buttons are undone and the tails of the shirt are tied tightly beneath the breasts. The skirt waistbands are rolled down until each girl has a Christina Aguilera amount of hip showing (I can imagine the schoolgirl handbook: "Roll down until you get fur, and then take one roll back out"). I'm not a prude; but this all just makes a fella wonder. Now, if this is what the nuns had in mind I'll just have to rethink my whole take on Catholic school. Especially if I had a son. And especially if I had a daughter.
No, I'm pretty sure this, er, presentation is something special for the lunch crowd, an explicit transformation for the brief release from school for lunch. But they sit in groups all around among us while we eat, and the most cursory eavesdropping reveals what common sense tells you, that this is an advertisement by 15-year-olds of a product not yet on the shelves. Am I really that old? Is this simply what it is to be "cute" and not unfashionably frumpy in the crushing peer-pressure-cooker of high school? Is this what Britney Spears hath wrought?
Or should we all just be grateful that Wunelle has no kids?